The Great Tower of Kura [short story] and an old man, old man [A Poem]

Part one of two parts

The Great Tower of Kura

The Great Tower of Kura

[4th Millennium BC]

At the beginning of the fourth millennium BC (350 years before the Great Flood occurred, which wiped out all civilizations on the face of the earth) gave rise to Slaug (a region of land, territory), an empire within civilization ( a city-state of sorts); – of which, the human race was subject to an international court, which incorporated a triangle of cultures, empires, societies and nations on all the connected continents of the world, all of which were connected together at this particular time. They, that is, all the lands of the earth, was the composition, a work for the entire globe, sustained in a region of the Atlantic, in which the nearby strait, which leads to the Mediterranean, would be known as the Columns of Hercules; however, at that time there was no connection between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean Sea above land.

There were also no external moral laws, against any behavior during this age of civilizations around the world. Yes, people were different and humility was not a virtue; the laws within the heart that told one to be wrong were dead, like bones left to dry on a corpse. What could be considered immoral actions were all relative.

Economies often, which was the norm, relied on slavery for their work and other desirable services. There was no discrimination, they were all equal in the minds of the slave owners, the masters – bittersweet one could say – the slaves were: brown, white, black, yellow, red skin, all over the world, and the government did not favor no one, and he dealt savagely with each and everyone equally, as if to say that human life was, at best, a commodity; for the total and complete sum of the Earth, all civilizations combined were part of the circle.

As one was brought up to think these days: death was simply a recycling of that merchandise found in almost every corner of the world; consequently, free labor in a city-state was a right, granted to him by the great democracy that had its world command center in the Atlantic, by a mysterious nation, a powerful and ingenious people, a subgroup of an order superior that no one dared to challenge; the democracy committed, and within the world that did not subdue the Region of the Atlantic Power [APR], to that. The Slaug had possibly more slaves than any other civilization on earth at this time; that is, this time I am writing about the moment when this story really happened, according to my dream vision. Who I am [if you are asking], I am the dream, my name is Jaws, and I have left these secrets hidden within a mound on an island for another time, for people to find and explore my writings, if you have found these writings and this story, then you have searched or someone has what is called ‘Sacred Geometry’, and so be it; because I have searched everywhere in all the lands of the world to bring to life the mysteries that have been hidden, and this is one.

– Religious dissidents [nonconformist] they were assassinated, massacred alive in front of the citizens; I said that democracy was on this earth, right? But its borders open to debauchery and the Atlantic Nation held the secrets of necromantic culture, and that’s what the people wanted; buried alive in front of whoever wanted to look, and be a testimony for those who wished to challenge democracy, of which the inhuman harshness of the time was, or rather, it seemed to be, in the human harshness, normal; In reality, only in these days has man stepped forward to wave the flag of moral rights and responsibilities, but hidden beyond all the dictators of the world today, it is exactly what was in those distant days, badly hidden . -black enchantment – this was the rule, the norm.

Again I must say, and one must remember, it was the model, natural for people to act this way, or was it? Hundreds were put in huge burials [dugout-graves] pits in the ground: maybe four hundred could be thrown or thrown, thrown like sick cattle into these pits (I have seen it with my own eyes in my vision). The liar was crucified upside down, was considered a guts out man and had no skeleton, so he was deboned like a fish shortly after and left to rot outside the cities with the hyenas.

When feelings, attitudes or opinions arose, and they witnessed anything contrary to the laws and ideals of the Ruling-Atlantic Region, did abolitionists expose it, then and only then. This was the group that carried the Eagle Wings (yes, this group was the Hidden Red Guards, the Nazis of the SS of our days; the CIA, or the FBI or the KGB of the time); Kura’s abolitionist, who worked for the Atlanta Group, were all of these subgroups and more. The emblem that went on his chest, or copper bracelets, or bronze ring, was the same emblem that many other nations would acquire in the future. For example, the wings would go to the Egyptian culture, as well as the Persians to follow and the Romans would adopt the eagle wings; and still far in the future, that of the Nazis. And in the longest version of humanity yet to be born, the eagle wings would be adapted by North America to follow, the United States, for some strange reason, this emblem would never rest for 10,000 years; never relax, never find a dormant place for long, stay open to world conquerors, or so it seemed; yes, this was also used by this powerful nation to tighten world power, this Atlanta Group, saying that their government was for the people by the people, therefore democracy was born, but it did not mean exactly what the people I wanted per se (because they were in a form of brainwashing), and although it was not considered as great an achievement as it is by today’s standards, it was nonetheless significant; so it was.

The abolitionist of Kura (within the ruling element of the city), who were the executors, would persecute the merchants, merchants who considered themselves against the people, of course, the people of the Atlantic Group, for what they said; the only favoritism towards his own kind was The Atlantic Group, which ruled the bi-proxy world, already at bay. In this city, the city was really called Kura, but it was still known as “The City of the Great Tower”, which was on the edge of the Black Sea, during its existence there was no Black Sea per se; at this time, it would come after the Great Flood – yes, I repeat, it has not yet come out, rather it was created, created after the great upheaval of the earth. It was now a desert, a plateau kingdom that rested on the edge of the desert, marked with a terrain that would one day be a great sea; That said, after the continents split in two (disconnecting the land masses), the earth’s crust would twist in labor pains, turning everything upside down during this Great Flood, of this age to come. But I am ahead of my dream —- Kura, as this powerful and powerful economic city-state was called, earned the name of: “The Great Tower of the City”, it is where I wish to stay.

As I was about to say, in the middle of the city of Kura, at its very center, its nerve center, also known as its ‘navel’, stood a two thousand foot tower, two thousand feet high in the dusty- blue ink like atmosphere. Its enormous girth was also deeply rooted, that is, planted and sunk deep into the crust of the earth to secure it for five thousand years. It was a marvel of power to a world that watched its visitors and tourists; but the power came again from the Atlantic, like most things of extraordinary feats, because they did the seeding, and I’ll get to that in a moment.

Like a peg, a peg up close, it was as it was: unfathomable, very entrenched was this mighty tower, this landmark of all the landmarks in layers and layers of earth; taller than the pyramids of Egypt, stronger than the stone walls of Troy, and stronger than Stonehenge; and older than the Sphinx. Who could boast of a more powerful lighthouse like this? [?] Not even Gilgamish and his mighty Uruk. However, this symbol was not one of hope or hope, on behalf of humanity, rather on the contrary, it was an encouragement to be subdued by the Atlantic group.

Inside this city-fortress that extended like the rays of the sun from the implanted tower, where 230,000 inhabitants of the city lived, of which 25,000 were slaves who lived, ate, gossiped and tolerated the rules of the heap that ruled from the region Atlantic, that is, they employed slaves with no more salary than the time to spend until they won their freedom, as a result, joining the democracy, the democracy that said they had to be in the condition of slaves, in all respects, this made the city’s population somewhere around or close to: 255,000 right now. The whole town, as if it were a conscription, knew that he had to serve two years of slavery when he turned sixteen. And if not, how could an economy prosper? It was beyond their comprehension, it was an unanswerable question and it pleased the Atlantic Group to leave it like that, where they had installed this reasoning for many years. It was something that was never mentioned, after its implantation in civilization. The only way out was to buy the exit before entering. And if you commit any infraction during your servitude, your time could be extended. The government could use his time and services, or he could be auctioned off by the government to the populist for the necessary products (Note: not much different in many ways from being a slave to 21st century credit cards, I think; and trying to pay the credit given in advance, thus one sells his body and his soul).

In essence, you did what you were told under this democratic servitude: for the people by the people, so it was said, but what was meant was free labor for economic purposes, rather than an army that would spoil and consume everyone. resources for free labor again for the government, therefore, in a way, it was better for the population and for the army commanding some two thousand miles away. Also, was there open or free sex if the master wished it from his slave, either with a man or a woman, or with both?

Look for ‘Part Two’, and now here is the poem:

An old man, old man

[Dedicated to Papa Augusto]

His words are chained

His eyes are off

Not a word, he says …

But they yell at him …

The supreme love:

They are his children and hope

Kneel now and pray

And he bows down to his God!

Exposed to demons

Surrounding the air

He sits down and thinks:

“How much can I bear?”

Is an old man

– his days are few

He sits down and thinks:

“How long can I cook?”

# 608 [3/31/05]